Laughing With
by brujon
Summary: No one laughs at God in a war. Mostly Draco/Astoria.
1. No one laughs at God

_In case it matters, they're all victims of the war and after. The "routine tests" one is Draco and Astoria after a miscarriage—nothing goes right for Draco. The "uncontrollably shake" one is Muggles feeling the effects of the war. "So very poor" is Theodore Nott, and "hateful eyes" is Bellatrix._

* * *

"_**Laughing With," Regina Spektor**_

_No one laughs at God in a hospital._

Heads of red hair, a couple of brown, one of silvery blonde. She's crying. His face is ripped up, and it might not even be that bad if human teeth hadn't done it. Is he an animal now, too? Lupin doesn't know. Does anyone? Will he live for it to matter?

She won't if he doesn't. For once she has nothing to say, not even anything dark and depressing.

_No one's laughing at God when they've lost all they got and they don't know what for._

Gone; all of it. He doesn't even care about the house. That's all it is. But his father will never be the same if ever he does come back, and as long as that rings true his mother won't even try.

He's so messed up he can't want a decent life. He fights when Astoria tries to stitch him up, but he stops bleeding whether he likes it or not. She won't let him do what he wants if it's dying. He supposes he should be grateful. He'll get it eventually. He might even love her for it.

_No one laughs at God in a war._

He cried when Albus died, despite every time he'd ever told himself he hated his brother. After all this time all he can do is smuggle the kids food—and Harry Potter. He hopes it matters.

_No one laughs at God on the day that they realize the last sight they'll ever see's a pair of hateful eyes._

She can't remember the last time somebody wanted her around. The Dark Lord can hardly count; he doesn't even trust her around Harry Potter. She's convinced it doesn't matter anymore—it never did.

But when Death finally comes to collect her she realizes she never wanted to die like this.

_No one's laughing at God if they're starving or freezing or so very poor._

He never did anything but the watching. His left arm is bare. But all anyone ever sees are his father's black, black eyes. He can't get a job, can't go anywhere. He just barely avoided Azkaban.

He never did anything like what Malfoy did, but he's the one freezing in the alley off Knockturn, nothing but bones and skin.

_No one laughs at God when the cops knock on their door and they say, "We've got some bad news, sir."_

She knows Tonks doesn't live here anymore; she's got Remus now. But she thinks they'll come by anyway, make sure everyone's alright, or at least alive. She's been chewing her tongue for hours, holding Ted's hand for all its worth: everything but nothing.

Harry's face is never a good sign; blood and tears have followed the face of the Chosen One for seventeen years. Why should all that stop now?

This time the blood's been shed, but not the tears. Those are her job and Ted's.

_No one laughs at God when a doctor calls after some routine tests._

He never wanted phone calls like these. She could ask, and he'd be there in ten minutes. But she's already in pieces; what's the point, she figures.

She's huddled alone in their bed when he gets home. He kicks off his shoes and joins her in missing someone they never really knew.

_No one laughs at God when their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake._

They don't know what's going on, but since when does that fix anything, save anyone? The innocent suffer, too. They can't even call their loved ones to say goodbye before the plane goes up in flames. It's not right.

* * *

_Yes, I know, vague. And depressing. I didn't have a good day. Hope these were worth posting. Two good things and one bad: Go. **And:** I just realized Ted was killed sometime before this point, so sorry. I don't feel like changing it._


	2. when a doctor calls

_**No one laughs at God when a doctor calls after some routine tests.**_

_ He never wanted phone calls like these. She could ask, and he'd be there in ten minutes. But she's already in pieces; what's the point, she figures. She's huddled alone in their bed when he gets home. He kicks off his shoes and joins her in missing someone they never really knew._

She's so unhappy when they get pregnant again. He tells her it'll be alright, but who is he to tell her that? (He's her husband, that's who.) Even when little Scorpius lies tiny and crying in her arms all she can do is cry. He won't let her. He tells her they've started over—they're gonna act like it. It's his turn to be the ugly savior. _He_ almost _wants _to be happy now, so they're gonna keep moving forward.

She's finally free of the constant fear that one day, Scorpius won't be there. She realizes that she's got a mother to be, and throws herself into the task, trying to make up for the year Draco had to figure it out himself.

They don't have the money to spoil their kid rotten, but they try. He gets on the Quidditch team without bribing them with brooms, which embarrasses his father to no end. They get him an owl (they tell him absolutely not when he asks for a snow white one), a wand and all his books. Astoria doesn't want him to go anywhere, but Draco'll still be there, she figures, and they got along fine before Scorpius, after all.

He meets Lucius once, and Draco's sorry, because he's really not the same person anymore. Narcissa loves him as much as she can, broken that she is. But hey, he's got a family.

And he's a good kid, as far as they're concerned. A Slytherin to the core, of course, and in time a foolish teenage boy, but a good kid.


End file.
